Chronicles of Steele: Raven 2: Episode 2 (2 page)

She turned to face him, a smile frozen on her lips.
Act naturally.

The taller guard’s formerly icy star had melted into a cordial one. He bowed his head slightly and held up her bag. “You’d forgotten this.”

Raven blinked slowly, hardly recognizing the burgundy carpet bag the man held in front of her. After a moment, she took on the part of a farm girl to match her dress. “Oh, goodness. I’d forget my head if it weren’t sewn on.” She smiled, batted her eyelashes, and bit her lip. “What a gentlemanly thing to do. Thank you so much, sir.”

The tall guard blushed and grinned. “No problem, miss.” He turned and trotted back to his partner.

Raven let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. The world spun around her just a little and she thought she might faint. A full week of preparations in the city, and she had not had one close shave. Fifteen minutes in the airship station, and she thought she’d been done in. Her heart still raced, and her panic seemed higher than usual. Must have been the caffeine. She really needed to curtail her intake of tea.

Aboard the airship, Darius settled into his seat beside Raven. She thought he’d never sit down. For a half hour, he had bounced from window to window, repeatedly exclaiming his love for zeppelins. It took extreme concentration in order to mark each passenger as threat, potential threat, or no threat. When she felt her safety assured, she leaned back in her chair. She smiled as the boy nodded off. It helped her finally have a moment to think.

She hadn’t been to Westmoreland in seven years, since she was thirteen years old. It was her fourth mission and her first kill. She closed her eyes and remembered the day.

Timothy Steele was a tall man, nearly a head taller than most. Raven had inherited his height, but still, his lofty frame blocked out the afternoon sun when Raven looked at him. Her height would be her advantage on this mission.

Dressed smartly in reaper black, with a crossbow snapped to the magnets on the harness sewn into his vest, her father shrugged and shook his head. “I’m not crazy about the idea, Raven, but this is a mission I cannot ignore.”

They dismounted their horses in front of an inn at the edge of the hilly town. A grave expression traversed his face, and he refused to meet her eyes. When he was nervous, he fidgeted as he did now. He ran a hand through his sandy hair and scratched his chin.

She searched his pale, clean shaven face. “What is it, Father?”

“I’ll be near by the entire time, but you will be the one in the most danger.”

Raven’s heart fluttered. It was about time. On the previous missions, she had felt little more than a third wheel. Uselessly, she did more observing than anything else. She couldn’t wait to use all she’d learned. A grin spread across her cheeks. “I can handle it.”

Her father’s violet-blue eyes met hers, his lip curling in half a smile. “I believe you can or we would not be here.”

She stood a little taller, smoothing her green farm dress over her breeches. He wouldn’t let her wear black yet. “So what’s the mission?”

Wrinkles reappeared in the corners of his eyes and creased his forehead. “Someone has been kidnapping young girls in this town.”

Raven gasped.

“The girls are a bit older than you, but you’re tall and with the right hair and dress, we can make you look about sixteen. We’re going to bait the thief.”

“What has been happening to the girls? Are they dead?”

“No.” He shook his head and looked away again. “They ended up in a town to the north called Channing. Sold to the house of iniquity there.”

A whorehouse. Her father liked to think of his little girl as innocent, but she knew much more than he’d think. When they were in strange towns on assignment over the past three years, he’d thought he’d safely left her in their quarters at the inns. More often than not, she’d sneak downstairs to the tavern and watch the men there. Often they’d fight. Their drunken, slow movements were a source of amusement for her.

She dismounted her horse to follow her father’s lead. They brought their horses to the livery stable next to the inn and left them with the stable hand. Her father palmed the man a coin before they started for a neighboring shop.

Hats of assorted color and size sat on disembodied head shapes in the window. The man behind the counter had pins between his lips, and he concentrated on the hat in front of him. His eyes were red- rimmed and bloodshot beneath half spectacles.

“Mr. Marsh?” Her father’s deep baritone softened in the close quarter.

The gentleman looked up and his jaw slackened. The pins fell from his lips and beat a musical chime on the countertop. His eyes were wide and watery as he pulled the glasses from his face and asked, “Mr. Steele?”

Her father nodded and stepped up to the counter and offered his hand. “Yes, sir.”

The relief on the man’s face seemed to melt into his shoulders, and she thought he might faint. He took her father’s hand and jerked it up and down. “Thank God. I was so afraid you wouldn’t accept the mission.”

After a moment of smiling and nodding, Raven’s father finally extracted his hand from the haberdasher’s grip. “Please, give us as many details as you can.”

The haberdasher nodded and his face hardened again. His gaze dropped to his hands. “Three nights ago, I had an argument with my daughter. She was supposed to go to the dairy earlier in the day so we’d have butter with our bread for dinner. But she’d forgotten.” His eyes lifted, filled with unshed tears. “I didn’t mean for her to go right then, but she took it on herself to do so.”

He stifled a sob with his kerchief. Raven and her father gave Mr. Marsh a moment of silence to compose himself.

“I didn’t even know she’d left. Mrs. Tailor came into the shop late to pick up an item, and Anna left while my back was turned. She’s only fifteen. I wish I’d never gotten so angry.” His eyes pleaded for forgiveness, and he swallowed hard before he continued. “I searched everywhere for her, but the constable called her a runaway. I’ve hardly slept since she’s been missing. I leave the gaslight on in the window every night so she’ll know I’m staying up, waiting for her.”

After giving him another moment to compose, Raven’s father nodded and said, “But you’re convinced she’s not a runaway.”

The man’s eyes grew determined and he shook his head forcefully. “Never. Anna would never run away. She’s all that I have. We’ve been close since her mother passed on. I know she’d never leave me over a simple disagreement.”

Raven’s father darted his eyes in her direction, and she suddenly knew why she was here. Her father had connected with the man at the gut level. Raven would never leave him that way either.

“So tell me about the common thread among the missing girls.”

Mr. Marks shook his head again, slowly this time, and his eyes met her father’s. “For the past few months, girls have been disappearing. Everyone knows not to let their daughters walk alone at night. I think she thought she could make it to the dairy and back because it’s just around the corner, but she should never have gone.” His face dissolved again.

After stepping up and putting a hand on the man’s shoulder, Raven’s father said, “What happens to the girls?”

“They’ve been discovered in Channing. A neighbor, Bill Mason’s daughter went missing months ago. He went to Channing to find her, but he never returned. Everyone thinks that the kidnappers may have killed him. I was too scared to go myself, and the constable will not help me.” This time the gentleman put his head in his hands and fell into sobs.

Raven stiffened. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She’d never seen a grown man cry in such a way before. Her father never cried in front of her, but she thought once she heard him mourning the night he buried her mother. He wouldn’t let her near enough to know for sure.

Her father patted the man’s shoulder. “Going to Channing will not solve the problem. Channing is in the duke’s territories. I doubt that the kidnappers are from there. Someone in this town is swiping and shipping the girls north. We need to find this culprit. He will tell us where your daughter is.”

The man lifted his head, his face swollen and blotchy. “Thank you,” he mouthed, but no sound escaped his throat.

Outside, the sun barely peeked over the tree line at the top of the next hill. “We’ll make preparations quickly. He took Raven to a dress shop and asked the woman to find a brightly colored dress that made his daughter look older. The woman raised her brows in a quizzical manner, but did exactly as he said. When they left the shop, Raven wore a yellow dress with bright blue flowers in the fabric, and the neckline exposed more skin than she felt comfortable with.

It was also the first time she’d worn a corset. The bone ribs within the fabric poked her in the sides. It pulled tight against her waist and pushed up her developing breasts. The only sign of the sun in the sky were the orange streaks of sunset.

“It’s nearly time.” Her father nodded to the west. “You have your breast dagger?”

Raven nodded. The thin blade’s blunt point did not stab her as she drew breath.

“I won’t be far. Let’s go into the inn and rent a room. I’ll leave through the back entrance a bit before the streetlamps are lit. Then you will wait five minutes before leaving on your own from the front. Understand?”

She nodded.

At the inn, her father waved for her to sit at one of the chairs in the lobby while he stepped up to the keeper’s desk. Her corset kept her from sitting comfortably, so she sat on the edge of the settee with her spine straight. She wiped the sweat from her brow and watched her father. After making arrangements for the room, he stepped back toward Raven.

“We’ll use that room tonight, to get some rest before heading for Channing. I already informed the keeper that we’d be coming in late.”

Raven nodded but stayed quiet while her father peered out the window. Her stomach growled; she hadn’t eaten since luncheon, and that had only been a bit of meat and cheese with water. Her father fasted and taught her to do the same when they were on a mission. She really felt too queasy to think of eating.

“Five minutes,” he reiterated before stepping toward the back of the inn.

Raven watched the clock on the mantle over the fireplace. The minutes trickled by. She couldn’t wait to get out of the corset. She hated the thing. It made her feel too feminine. How she wished she were a boy.

When it had been three minutes, Raven stood and paced the room. She figured that the movement might help the time pass. She walked a circle around the room twice before the clock told her she had thirty seconds left. Counting each second, she strolled to the front door and yanked it opened the moment she reached thirty.

Outside, the sky had become pitch black, but the gas lit streetlights washed out the stars a bit. Her heart pounded in her chest. Raven watched the shadows but couldn’t find her father anywhere. It didn’t matter whether she could see him or not. He was there. She trusted in that.

Across the street, a couple entered the pub. The revelry within spilled into the street when they opened the door. Orange-tinted light. The peal of an organ. And the laughter of the crowd fell to a low din the moment the door shut behind them. The street became all but silent, and not a soul stirred but hers.

She needed to think like a normal girl, right? Not like a reaper. She stood straighter and kept her eyes from darting in every direction. Her ears strained to catch every sound. How did her father hear things so well? He said she’d gain it with training in the blindfold, but right now, she felt about as dumb as she was deaf.

One step at a time, she started down the street. As nothing happened, she relaxed and swung her arms in a more strolling gait. Maybe she should whistle? She tried it for a few bars but then felt silly and giggled to herself. This was too easy. Nothing was happening. Besides, what did she have to worry about? Her father would pulverize whoever meddled with her.

When she crested the next hill, she thought about skipping her way down. Or running–that would be fun, too. But she didn’t want to get too far ahead of her father, and if she looked odd, would the kidnapper still take the bait? She decided to walk down like a normal girl. As she passed an alley between buildings, she heard a small cry for help.

A young girl, about four years old stood under the lamp in the alley. Her hand was on the handle of the door lit by the lamp. Pink ribbons tied back her hair in pigtails, matching a faded muslin night gown. “Can you help me please? I need help.”

Raven glanced up and down the street. No one, not even her father could be found. She took one step forward. “What’s the matter, little girl? You shouldn’t be outside this late. Don’t you know that?”

“But I need help. I lost my kitty.”

Raven took two more steps into the alley. “Where’re your mum and dad?”

The little girl jiggled the handle on the door. “See, I’m locked out.”

With a sigh, Raven approached the child. When she drew near, she knelt and met the girl at eye level. The little girl smiled and knocked on the door.

It swung in and two men jumped out. Raven fell back against the wet flagstones in the alleyway. She crab-crawled backward for several feet, until one of the men dashed behind her. He grabbed her by the hair and lifted her. Before she could scream, he slapped a grimy, meaty hand over her mouth. His voice had a gravelly edge, and he mocked her in a sing-song voice, “What’s the matter little girl? You shouldn’t be outside this late, don’t you know that? Where’re
your
mum and dad?”